


Don't Stay Here, You Too Are Dead

by thegirlwholoveshorror



Series: Don't Stop Smoking And Drinking [10]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Navy, Dysfunctional Family, Family Dynamics, Family Secrets, Future Tense, Gen, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Intense, M/M, Moving On, Post-Graduation, Separation Anxiety, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwholoveshorror/pseuds/thegirlwholoveshorror
Summary: “If you had to choose, which way would you die?” Jensen asked.“It doesn't matter, Jensen,” said Jared with a rasp in his voice, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.“Pain is beautiful. When I die, I'd like it to be painful,”





	Don't Stay Here, You Too Are Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first entry to a story/series of stories that I've been writing in private for about a year. This entry is set in the future.

November 11 2016

A sheet of fine, pearly white snow covered the ground, the branches of the trees, the hedges, the deck as well as the rooftops of the houses in the front and the back the house, his parents' house, Donna and Alan's house...; well, just about everything around was covered in snow now that winter had arrived. This was what Jensen could see from inside his cocoon as he peered out the window; dirty and old, but serving its purpose as it kept the cold outside, as everything, Jensen could only imagine, burrowed deep into the ground to take refuge in the coming winter. The sky was gray, clouds were scarce up ahead and temperatures were dropping a few degrees by the day. It was mid-November, and Jensen was feeling better and better by the day; in fact, he was feeling better than he had in a very long time. He stood by the patio at the back of his house, in the kitchen, with a cup of nice hot coffee in his hands, by his nose, with a knit sweater around his shoulders, tight, gray and made of wool, staring out at the backyard of the land his family owned out here in the suburbs of NYC. _Born in the suburbs: halfway into the City, halfway into **nowhere**..._

At times like these, Jensen found his peace. Leaning his head and right shoulder against the window, he closed his eyes and let out a breath, savoring the moment, not even bothering to notice how the huff and puff of air from his lungs had fogged up the window and then cleared.

Having already lived in downtown NYC for more than six years, Jensen was happy to be back here at his parents’ house, in what felt like another realm, another world, having returned to his roots the summer before in order to pursue his following projects in a more natural environment with less stress and less anxiety, in the company of his family and childhood friends and away from all the issues of his past that he was trying desperately to forget, hoping to have left them back up there, in the City around where he lived before, in what could only be described as the poorest neighbourhood of the metropolitan area of NYC. Leading a pretty solitary life, he didn’t need the hassle of living too fast and the running around in circles; all in all, he'd just end up succumbing to the ills of a burnout, forgoing his health in order to take this stance.

By studying from home, he was learning to live again. One day at a time, he was getting better. But he still had a long way to go.

The sound of a door opening behind him pulled him out of his silent reverie; footsteps on the main floor. It had to be Joshua. Who else could it be? Dad was working at the military base today, and Mom was out of town, again. Where was it this time? Algeria, Argentina, Armenia...? Jensen couldn't keep track of it all anymore. “It’s snowing, Joshua. Did you see the backyard yet? It’s beautiful. I saw a snow hare over–”

“You should be a writer, Jenny. You talk way too much,” Joshua pulled off his dirty gloves, with a huff and a look of disdain that Jensen could just picture in his head, standing there at the entrance to the house from the garage by the side, door ajar behind him.

_Damnit!_ Jensen couldn't bear how right his brother was about this. Nobody enjoyed discussing everything and anything like Jensen did.

“That’s not a bad idea, Joshua,” said Jensen. “Problem is, I can't do dialogue. The dialogue of any text is too damn hard to write for me,”

Eyes closed with his forehead and right shoulder leaning up against the glass of the patio door, the sensation of coolness against his skin, Jensen, against his better judgement, let a small grin pull at the sides of his lips as he contemplated the very thought... because he knew that his brother was different from him, and, it wasn't because he wasn’t a bookworm like him, didn’t like school like he did, no... It's because he was high maintenance and judgmental of the works. Jensen knew that Joshua appreciated his passion for learning as well as just how respectable it is for him to get a degree, though; Hell, Jensen was working on his third postsecondary degree… After all, it’s what made Jensen special. But he would never understand the clarity that could be gained through learning and science. He would never know all of Jensen's secrets, either.

It was enough to make Jensen smile.

Opening his eyes, Jensen let out a sigh of relief as he heard the door close. As soon as that was done, he walked over to the kitchen counter, next to the fridge, so he could boil the kettle for his next cup of coffee, only then turning to look back at his brother who he hadn’t seen in a while because they had different daily patterns... Also, they lived separately and never really got along, not even as kids. 

“How’s the car? Got any trouble with her?”

“Nah, she’s great. Just put winter tires on her and fixed her up a bit,”

“I take it that you’re not working today,”

“I'm off until next Wednesday, actually,” It was just like Joshua to drop by without notice, say the strict minimum and then walk away with a hard line across his features. Every time, it felt like a blow to his gut. “I picked up the mail this morning, by the way,” He said, pulling out a series of envelopes out from his back pocket and dumping them on the kitchen table. “You've got mail. It looks like your diploma's in,”

Just then, Jensen put his cup of now lukewarm coffee down on the counter and walked across the room, over to the table, picking up the large envelope that had his name on it, then leaning over to the drawers of the cabinet under the sink to pull out a pair of scissors.

Opening the envelope, Jensen pulled the contents out before putting the now empty envelope down on the counter and holding his diploma between both hands, pride and tender smiles now on for short display, the result of having his nose stuck deep in his books for the last four years.

_Of course, if he was pride, then his family would be prejudice..._

Regardless of it all, though, no one could ever take this away from Jensen - _not even the simple passage of time or distance_... This may well be the greatest value of education. No one could ever say that Jensen couldn't qualify for something big. And whatever Jensen had learned then and there was his forever. Things would come and go, but knowledge would forever be king. Gaining insights; chatting without questions; the best free thing.

He had gone and done something that most people could only dream of doing. Despite the put-downs and criticism from people with little to no record of achievements or respect towards his dreams, he'd gone and accomplished something great, while they just sat there and watched.

Ignoring this for the moment, Joshua turned around slightly from where he was now leaning over his duffel bag, on the floor, rummaging through it from his position kneeling on the ground, to look up at Jensen briefly, then away, with a hard look that was broken by his blink; this look could be qualified as harsh and angry with all jovial smiles long gone from before, now once again an awkward exchange from what Joshua and everyone else probably believed to be long-lasting rivals. Just that second, though, the whistle from the kettle brought Jensen from his impasse. _Just a look._

“Mom gets back on Saturday,” Joshua then proceeded to break the silence once more.

“We're holding a surprise birthday party for her at Jean George's on December Fourth in the evening. Mackenzie and I expect you to be there. And bring a gift,” Zipping the bag closed, he then stood up and pulled the large strap of it over his shoulder with his right hand as his left hand closed over the door handle to the side of the house, where he'd come in earlier, maybe only fifteen minutes prior.

“Bye,”

Just like that, Joshua was out the door, into the high-tech car he could barely afford and backing out of the driveway, full-speed with his sunglasses on, whatever crazy popular underground music he liked in the moment on full blast out of his too-cool-for-school radio. _It was just so typical of Joshua to act this way. More than words, it was the feeling of being kicked in the nuts and/or dragged face-first across the pavement._

The following morning, around 2 AM, Jensen fell asleep against the rising chill, trying to imagine the Californian ocean breeze.

There is no place he'd rather be than the golden state. _Away and into the **distance...**_

Not to mention, Jared was in Washington.

**Author's Note:**

> PS- I have literally no experience in writing, so let me know what you think. Be gentle though: I'm an INFJ.


End file.
